


Promotion

by Reily96



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: AU where the WoL was adopted by Gaius, Alternate Universe, Blow Jobs, Canon-Typical Violence, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Desperation, Dom/sub Undertones, Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, Obsession, One-Sided Attraction, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rough Sex, SAM WoL, Size Difference, Toxic Relationship, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Vaginal Sex, Yandere, Zenos knows a tool when he sees it, am i missing anything, and is also super obsessed with Zenos, and joined the Garlean military, but he'll get down, fun with garlean hierarchy, implied asexual Zenos, like yandere levels of obsessed, may neptune have mercy on my soul, no beta i die like haucherfaunt, one very horny Auri girl thirsts over Zenos and likes murder a lot, the porn part is in chapter 2 you degenerates, with hints of NIN
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:54:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28321212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reily96/pseuds/Reily96
Summary: AU - WoL is taken in by Garlemald at a young age and raised in the military.Sumire sas Agrippina has found little meaning her life since her adoption by Gaius van Baelsar. The world is colorless and drab, and naught but bloodshed gives her any hint of feeling. That is, until she is put in the XIIth Legion. For the first time in years, color has come to to her world, vibrant and brilliant in the presence of Zenos yae Galvus. To kill, to kill for him, to have him acknowledge her very existence - it's all she could wish for. And sometimes, dreams do come true.
Relationships: Zenos yae Galvus/Warrior of Light
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	1. Promotion

**Author's Note:**

> Unpopular opinion, I love Zenos yae Galvus and his stupid motivations, he is my kind of absolute crazy and he can kill me so hard. So here, have my trash for it, featuring my WoL (Sumire Iga) in a different iteration of herself. A much darker and unhappier version of herself.

The battle was won. There was never any doubt that it wouldn’t be, however. It was a foolish endeavor by the Domans, she thought. Thinking that Garlemald would be so distracted by a succession war that they could begin a rebellion, and even win it. It was laughable. And certainly not the way she had expected a “return” to the land she had once called home so many years ago. In fact, she had never expected to come back at all. The country and its denizens, like everything else, were dead to her. They meant nothing. And so long as Garlemald wished it… no, so long as _he_ commanded her, she would cut them down.

And so here she was, standing over the body of what had apparently once been a “great samurai of Doma.”

He wasn’t worthy of her spit.

Sumire waved her katana in the air swiftly to throw the taint of unworthy blood off of its steel.

She looked upon the field. Corpses. It didn’t particularly matter to her how many belonged to each side. It wasn’t her business… at least not in this instance. Perhaps if the legion had been split, then some Pilus might have sought her out and began doing a preliminary report on causalities and status and whatnot. No, what mattered to her was that she slaughtered those that dared to try and lay a finger upon her legatus. How they thought they could _sneak_ , how it never occurred to them that one of the tribuni they fought had known those ninja tricks, knew that they would try to surprise him.

Not that they would’ve.

But his breath would have been wasted upon them. They were no challenge. She had cut through them like a hot knife through butter, blood spilling out in ribbons in a morbidly beautiful dance of death. Where the world was grey and drab, the color had come back to her vision in shades of red as her inner beast roared in insult at their trespasses. He would not waste his breath upon them, not when she was willing and able to excise such refuse from his path. Anything for him. She would do anything for him.

“Tribunus!”

The Raen’s head tilted ever so slightly to the direction of the voice. It wasn’t anyone she recognized from the legion – so many faceless, unworthy names… “Speak.”

He saluted, “Lord Zenos has commanded your presence!”

For a brief moment, the world stopped and her eyes widened. The organ she’d thought long since dead in her chest pounded as morphos filled her belly. “Where is he?” Her voice was high and shivering, an unnerving smile emerging upon her face.

The nameless soldier reported the legatus’s position on the field, and without a second thought she quickly began her way to him. Other people, other soldiers, the corpses of the dead – none of it mattered to her. Not when _he_ called to her. And the moment she caught sight of him, the moment she saw the steel horns of his helm, she felt her heart soar. The drab black and whites of the world suddenly came alive with muted colors; the blue of the sky, the green, black, and brown of trampled grass… the gold of his hair, cascading down his back.

She approached the legatus, whom was examining a katana from what seemed to be a fallen officer. Since their arrival, her legatus had seemed enamored of the swords. A secret part of her was delighted by it – the secret part of the old her that hadn’t quite completely died… But much as she would have loved to have stood in stillness and forever watch him in his examination of his newest favorite weapon. She regrettably noticed the presence of his second-in-command, looking down upon her and seeming put off by her very presence. She didn’t know this officer well, but she knew she hated him. He dampened the colors that her beloved brought to her…

Standing at attention, she saluted, “Tribunus Angusticlavius, Sumire sas Agrippina, reporting to you as commanded, milord.”

“Sas Agrippina…” the sound of his voice saying her name caused her heart to pound in her chest again, but he did not take his gaze off of the blade he held. “One of Baelsar’s, I believe – taken in from the very savage land we’ve come to tame yet again.” The blade he held, evidently, did not meet his satisfaction. He tossed it aside gracelessly and then turned to face her, the heavy sounds of his armor clunking as he moved firing her nerves further. He was looking at her now. The eyes behind his helm were looking at _her_. _He_ was speaking to _her_. Directly.

“Yes, milord.”

“And yet here you are, hunting your own.”

A probing question… A test of her loyalty. From him, she would never question, never be disappointed. “They are not my own, Lord Zenos. Garlemald is my home now. Glory be to Garlemald.”

“I’ve observed your skill on the field. You hunt with purpose, the motivations of which elude me.” Even with the helm on, she felt his gaze boring into her soul. His following words were no surprise, “I’ve no desire to hear lies about bringing glory to Garlemald or to your father or whatever such nonsense it is you’ve been trained to say. Tell me, what is the purpose of your hunt, the reason for which you cut down those whom you might have identified as your own?”

Ah, of course he could see right through her. For him, she would lay her soul bare - lying to him was unthinkable. Garlemald meant nothing to her. There was nothing but roiling hatred for her “father,” casual dismissal of her “siblings.” Any words of affection she had for all of them were false, and he could see this as plain as day, as if it was written in the skies.

“To kill, Lord Zenos. The thrill of the fight is the only thing that brings any sort of color to my world.” The Raen had attempted to keep her voice level, but knowing how he wished the truth from her lips… Her voice began to tremble, not out of fear, but for excitement about laying her feelings bare. “To kill for you, Lord Zenos. To cut down those in your path, those unworthy of your gaze. To kill brings my drab world monochrome, but to kill for _you_ , my lord… I could think of no higher purpose. I feel no greater joy than to hunt on your behalf, to spill blood on your behalf. For you, I would kill anything. Anyone.”

Before she had even finished her last few words, the Tribunus Laticlavius stepped forward and spoke in outrage, “Nothing more than a savage harlot! Lord Zeno-”

The quickness with which the prince took a blade from his sword revolver and placed it to the Laticlavius’s neck was made all the more impressive by the fact that he wasn’t even looking. “ _You_ are not a part of this conversation. Remain silent.”

She shuddered, euphoric in seeing her beloved legatus put the rabble in its place, all while keeping his gaze only upon her. _Where it belongs_ , she thought dreamily. The second backed down, his step backwards stiff with fear. Zenos took his blade away from the man… and then pointed it upon Sumire.

“You intrigue me, sas Agrippina. Violence for violence’s sake is the truth of this barren world. To bite into the neck of your prey and feel the warmth of their life’s blood fade. Perhaps we speak the same language, or perhaps it is your savage blood? Fight me then. Prove to me that you understand my meaning.”

And that was when she paused. Time had stopped upon hearing challenge, her mind doing her best to process his request. With confusion plain upon her face, she continued to look at her beloved prince, all of a sudden feeling the tinge of disgust from him before he even spoke. “For someone who pronounced she would do anything on my behalf, your hesitance ill supports your claims.” Sword still pointed at her, he stepped forward, “If you would kill for me, then come kill me or I shall kill you.”

 _Kill him?_ He continued to walk towards her, and even though his steps were slow, his strides were long… _He has commanded me to kill him… Kill him. My love, I would do anything for him… Anything. Yes, anything._ “If to kill you is your command…” Then she had no choice.

Her stance changed and she closed her eyes, preparing a dō for his inevitable strike at her.

The horns that made up her “ears,” her spatial awareness… She felt him near, she felt his heavy steps, heard the heaviness of his armor, the vibrations in the air of his every movement, the very intent to kill that his presence brought. He approached her, he raised his blade – she struck like lightning, quickly… but unfortunately not powerful enough to even make a dent in his armor. It hadn’t even stopped his movement, his sword coming down and slicing the very air before her. Had she not detected his movement, had she not moved – then instead of only losing a few strands of her hair, she would have lost her life.

“Weak.”

The single word was perhaps the most pain she had felt in her entire life after the loss of her true parents. A stab through her heart, the blade twisting and scrambling it into a pulpy mess. It was…

Exhilarating!

Sumire slashed her first three kata at him, her blade sparking upon contact with his armor. Again, he was undeterred, throwing his own slashes at her. Her horns giving her her preternatural sense of awareness were perhaps the only thing that allowed her to dodge his strikes. Despite his size, he was incredibly quick, a true master of his craft. He _would_ kill her, just as he threatened – nay, _promised_. Again, she felt pure elation, even as he slashed at her yet again. She ducked and slid under him, coming up swiftly and twirling upwards behind him with her blade bare. For anyone else, it might have proved a life-threatening move. But Zenos, almost as if he’d had his own Raen horns, had seemed to sense her movements. He had jumped forwards, sliding upon his heel to face her direction as he dodged – but not without the sound of ripping fabric as her blade had snagged the textile of his armor and tore at it.

It was an opportunity if she ever saw to go in. She charged forward, sensing the movement of a retaliatory strike before he had even pulled back for it. It was enough for her to take a small jump back and his blade slashed downwards into the ground, but that was where she had failed. She failed to notice the blade in his hand, his newest favorite, the Swell. Even her enhanced awareness could not allow her to prepare for the knockback caused by the wind aether the blade expelled. She flew backwards, the wind howling like a loud roar – or was it the blood rushing, the anticipation of death looming so very real over her head? The realization of which brought her world into full, ecstatic color.

She had gracelessly tumbled onto the floor from the knockback but was quick to get back upon her feet. The Swell’s wind aether strengthened her own natural affinity for the element, she felt it at her heels. Quicker than before she had made her way back to him – he struck out, she jumped and feather light steps landed upon his sword and trailed upwards, her sword gleaming ominously as it went to take her beloved’s head. But then she saw the aether surge into the ground, cracks beginning form. But if she was quick enough, it wouldn’t matter! She’d do as he commanded, kill him before he got the concentrativity off. The point of her sword has just brushed the tip of his armor before she felt the crushing pressure of the attack.

There was no knockback this time. The momentary stun from the blinding aether and its overwhelming power had been enough for Zenos to grab her by the neck. A cracked gasp of pain escaped her as she felt the gauntlet upon her begin crushing her windpipe. Even through the pain all she could think was that his hand was so large, encircling her entire neck… What a way to die, strangled by her dearest, most precious prince. But he had told her to kill him, so she couldn’t be complacent. Though she had dropped her katana, she clawed at the hand that gripped her, hacking and coughing the entire time, her tail flailing wildly as its spikes attempted to make purchase.

“Disappointing.” Again was her heart split apart at the simple comment. Even as her vision, in full brilliant color, began to blacken at the edges, did she feel the separate, all the more devastating emotional pain. These feelings, the vibrant, visceral devastation – yes, only _he_ could make her feel this way.

_Chink._

The pressure upon her neck paused, but even so she continued to claw at his arm. But he had ignored her continued struggle, instead removing his helm with his free hand. She didn’t think her vision, even in its blurred state, could saturate more. But there it was, the sight of his face – fair and perfect, the blue of his eyes so vibrant as he examined the helm in curiosity. Even she could see it too. One of the horned tips had broken off.

He released her. Sumire fell to the floor in an ungainly heap, picking herself up to her knees and breathing ragged.

“It seems I was mistaken. You _do_ have potential.”

How quickly had that strong despair changed into joyous mirth. Her red eyes sparkled as she looked up to his handsome, unmasked face. His lips were curled ever so slightly upwards, his gaze focused entirely on her. Was it a dream? The sun seemed to shine its rays upon him as gloriously as if it were…

“The hunts we could undertake would be squandered upon a Tribunus Angusticlavius. Rise, Sumire tol Agrippina, and together shall we find some measure of sport.”

She never believed it possible to feel such a measure of joy, to see the approval of her upon his face. A grin the likes of which she never thought possible for herself spread upon her face, her cheeks in pain from how far they had stretched to accommodate. But then-

“S-sire, what are you saying? This woman she… she’s a _savage_! She can’t possibly ascend to a higher rank than what she is!” It was the other one, the man from before. She had forgotten he existed. She still hated him, perhaps even moreso now. Shock, horror, and disgust were on his face and she didn’t even need to see the face behind the helm. She could feel it, the venom dripping from his words…

“The potential she has would be wasted upon such backwards thinking. I refuse to adhere to a system where a potential challenge would be denied to me.” He spoke his words as absolute fact. Yes, he could not be denied. Zenos had found her worthy.

But the rabble refused to acknowledge it. “My lord, she can’t take that title. I-it’s _my_ position!” Yet she could sense it, the shake in his voice. _Fear._

At that, Garlemald’s prince deigned to glance at the man before looking back down to her. “My oh my. He does have a point, I suppose.” Her expression faltered, but he continued, “What is it that a hunter does?”

And quickly, she understood. Slowly, she picked herself up, katana in hand. She looked to the current Laticlavius who was nervously looking back and forth between his superior and his own potential replacement. Her voice raw, she rasped, “A hunter takes what they want.”

“And what is it you want?”

“To serve you, Lord Zenos. To kill for you. To become your most loyal hunting hound.”

The prince’s smiled widened. “Then take your rightful place, Hound.”


	2. Loyalty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *takes a drag of a cigarette* Kiddos. This is the most abhorrent thing I've written. And I've written very not serious Sonic/Zelda smut. Just wanna put it out there I do not condone nor encourage this kind of thing irl. 
> 
> That aside, please enjoy dis nastiness. I've never been particularly fond of shipping one's character with a very toxic character and then just changing said toxic character's personality for the sake of making it "acceptable." It's just not my cup of tea. If I'm gonna fuck Zenos, I'm going to FUCK ZENOS, AS HE IS PRESENTED TO ME. So I hope this scratches that itch for you like it scratched it for me. I'm past the point of having a sense of shame. Happy new year.

Like many things around her, save her one guiding light, Sumire tol Agrippina hated Doma. But the XIIth had been commanded to take back Doma in its futile uprising, and so they had. For the most part, she had been able to ignore the very fact she was in her once upon a time homeland. And it had become even easier to forget once she had been promoted, acting as her beloved legatus’s second. But now the rebellion had been quelled… And there was no one left to kill. No one worthy of sport, as _he_ would say. He was just as eager to leave as she, though she hated to admit that her own reasoning was for more than just poor sport…

With nothing to kill, hardly anything to attend to, she avoided leaving her appointed quarters. She relayed any orders for the rest of the legion from Zenos as necessary, but very little had come through. He had been preoccupied with… that woman. The spy in his employ, the one he was going to appoint as viceroy. The Raen took solace in the fact that the prince seemed interested only in her petty hatred of her own country. But with nothing else to do, she simply remained in her room. She practiced her kata, meditated, wrote letters to her “family.”

Soon, soon they would leave. Soon, the XIIth would be back in Ala Mhigo, and once there, she could bury it all again. Bury all those unsettling… feelings. The memories of a time long past that no longer existed… that she so desperately wished in the deepest part of heart she could return to.

 _No!_ Panic overcame her. In that place, in those times, there was no Zenos. How could she even consider such a time as more favorable? No, no, her beloved prince was here. In this time, in this present. He was all she needed.

But then she recalled the crumbled, razed heap that was Doma proper. Slipped back into the mind of a child, each parent holding one hand and floating her above the street as they walked. Her true parents: the serious Raen mother whose calm smile and gentle voice would lull her to sleep at night, the socially awkward but well-meaning Xaela father teaching her everything he knew about horses. The flash of brightness suddenly overshadowed by the memory of their fallen, bloody bodies as she was kicked off to the side and left for dead. Her head being ground into the mud by a hateful Garlean brat she’d been indentured to. How the pretend father, that hateful legatus extended his hand to her and _cared_ for her like his own – never knowing the whole reason she was even there was because he banned travel of refugees.

Hateful, hateful, _hateful_!

She wailed in agony, tossing a table, throwing cushions, breaking vases. But no matter how much she screamed and broke, it was there – that visceral pain that being in this wretched, awful place constantly reminded her of. A reminder of how much she wanted to _die_. Sumire fell to the floor, a heap of tears and anger and hopelessness, angry black cracks at the edges of her vision.

The trail of her mind led back to Zenos. Beloved, beautiful Zenos. Her legatus, her prince, her guiding light… She wanted to live, needed to live. For him. He wished for a challenge, he said. A challenge she had the potential to bring, the sport he so desperately craved. He could fix this. He could fix the detriment that was her memory, make her forget. She wanted to forget, so badly – have him consume all her memory until there nothing but him.

So single-minded was she in this belief, she’d no idea how her legs had hoisted her up and moved. There was no memory of speaking to the rabble, or making up any excuses or commands. Only the memory of approaching his door, her fist shaking as she rapped upon it.

“Enter.”

The sweet music of his voice, enough to make the fraying cracks at the edges of her sight fade ever so slightly. She opened the door, all but stumbling in, yet standing up all the straighter upon seeing his back turned to her as he gazed out the window of his quarters, looking out upon the mountain range of the Fanged Crescent across the One River. How rare it was to see him unarmored, in casual dress… The cracks at the edges faded yet more.

“Lord Zenos…” Her voice rasped.

“tol Agrippina. You sound distressed.” He glanced over his shoulder at her, impassively noting, “You look distressed,” before turning his attention back to the landscape before him.

Distressed… Yes, distressed. She was distressed. The cracks intensified briefly, the haunting images threatening to overshadow her beloved. And while she managed to keep the images out, if only because she could see him standing there in front of her, her crushing failure still broke through. “Lord Zenos, I-” words… words were so difficult, “I am a failure, Lord Zenos.” With each syllable did her voice crack and raise in pitch, tinged with despair. “I remember _them_ , Lord Zenos. The life I once lead here, and I hate it and I despair over it.” Automatically did her awkward steps slowly meander closer towards him, coming to a halt a few feet back from him as she had to remind herself of her place. She struggled to find the words again, hugging herself tightly, fidgeting in place. “It claws at my mind like a poison, deters me from _you_ , my lord. Unforgivably deterring me from you, threatening to overtake it all…”

“Oh? Is that so?” The disinterest in his voice was palpable. She understood. She was unworthy of any sort of attention in this state, useless to him. “And why is it you come to me, Tribunus?”

The Au Ra looked to the window he gazed through. Useless, is what she was. She may as well throw herself out of it. But she could still… still carry out his hunts. Yes, she knew she could but-

Tears stung at her eyes and her voice barely came out in a whisper, “Make me forget, Lord Zenos.” There was no response from him, just silence and stillness, as if she hadn’t said anything at all. Sumire edged forward slightly, “Make me forget. Fill my mind with only thoughts of you so that I may continue to be your favored Hound. So that I may hunt for you, continue to grow in strength… so that one day, I can be the challenge you seek.” Her desperation took charge, and she again stumbled forward and next to him, her hands reaching, clinging to his sleeve.

If he took any offense to her touch, he did not show it. His cool gaze still remained ahead, though when he spoke, she swore she heard the slightest tinge of amusement, “And what is it you think I can do for you, Tribunus? How would you propose that I erase these painful memories of yours to restore your clarity?”

Sumire’s knees shook as she bit her lip. As always, she could never lie to him. Never, never… but she knew the insolence of her request, her horribly selfish request. Worthy of having her head taken off, it was… but what sweeter way to die than by his hand? “Take me.”

He tilted his head downward towards her ever so slightly, his face inexpressive as usual. But she could see it, a spark in those cold blue eyes. The colors of her world so vibrant, the cracks at the edges of her vision fading, as words continued to spill out, “Take me. Erase the memories, replace them with only you. Envelop me entirely in you and throw aside the festers of the doubts that dare to intrude upon space that belongs only to you.”

A light curve of his lips upwards, her heart beating a mile a minute. He shifted to face her fully. “You wish me to fuck you.”

The crass wording meant nothing – from his mouth the words were sweet notes. And he had not killed her for her impudence… not immediately. Headily, she whispered, “If there is only you, I can ever grow stronger.”

Zenos walked away from her then, her fingers sliding off of his sleeve and the colors of her vision desaturating. She felt her breath hitch, a whine threatening to escape. But he did not move far, instead turning the chair by the small tea table and sitting upon it. That icy gaze focused upon her, the slight smile still upon him. “Well, Hound? What is it a hunter does?”

For a moment, she stood stunned. And then she remembered the day of her promotion to his second… _A hunter takes what they want._ An invitation. His invitation. Desperately she shambled, falling to her knees and crawling forward rapidly. Her hands shook, as they gingerly neared the fly of his pants… But even so, she hesitated, shakily looking up to him.

He rested his head upon his closed hand, looking bored but with vaguest hint of curiosity. “Proceed.”

Fully saturated color. His approval. She was so unworthy, yet he was gracing her with permission to touch him. Trembling fingers unzipped the fly, reached under his smallclothes. He was soft, which only made sense – she was a filthy Au Ra savage, what business did Garlemald’s prince have being any sort of attracted to her? But it was fine, she knew… she knew she could remedy this. She knew what to do, taking the flaccid member in her hand and slowly rubbing it up and down. Excitement bubbled within her, her red gaze fascinated as he grew in length in response to her ministrations. Gingerly she picked up speed, a familiar heat within her spreading throughout her – the heat she felt anytime she was in his very presence… But all the more intensified in her elation at _touching_ him, feeling his own heat grow beneath her fingers, the twitches of him as he reacted to her.

She found herself salivating as his length grew, how his own heat added to her own. The Raen again peered up to her prince, who seemed to have only vaguest hint of interest in what she was doing. Would he think less of her for what she was about to do? A thought she quickly discarded, for she had his permission, so surely it extended to… Focused upon his erection again, she pulled herself up closer to him, licking up the oozing precum before sucking the tip. The bitter taste of him, her tongue wrapping around him, feeling the warmth of him entirely within her mouth – only in her dreams before had she done this to him. But now, now it was here and real, and her dreams could never mimic the sensation of his pulsing manhood swelling upon her tongue.

Ah, it was so hot. So very, very hot. As she continued to vacuum him in, Sumire found herself tearing at the buttons of her shirt. Everything was so stifling, and he had yet grown more. And she wanted to swallow him up, swallow him whole. She wasn’t sure she could. He was thick, he was big. But she would try, flattening her tongue and moving into him as much as she could, taking half of his cock in her mouth before she felt her gag reflex kick in. She released him with a cough; embarrassed, fearful, she peered up. Zenos looked amused more than anything, no disappointment in his expression. Her eagerness returned, but rather than attempt to swallow him completely again, she dragged her tongue along his length, continuing ministrations upon the head of his cock. Upon her knees, she fidgeted. Still so hot, so stifling… She slipped a hand beneath her waistband, under her flooded smalls.

“None of that.” The first words he’d spoken since she had begun. Lips around the head of his cock, she’d paused, resisting the urge to muffle out a whine as she dragged her hand from her pants reluctantly. His expression had returned to the impassive coldness she was so familiar with. “You have asked me to sate your desire, and I will grant it to you. You will not grant it to yourself.”

She released him with a heavy _haaah_ , “Y-yes, Lord Zenos…” What a strange sensation now, for her world to be so filled with color, the cracks at the edges gone, but the world so hazy. The Au Ra keened, desperately taking her tongue to his length again.

“Such a devoted hound,” she felt his hand rest upon her head, lightly stroking her hair. Electric currents surged through her at the sensation of it, a stuttering moan escaping her even as she continued to lap at him. “You’ve done enough here. A loyal hound deserves that which she so desperately hunts.”

Gazing up at him, hearing the promise in his words and the return of his amused face, a broad open smile came upon her face. Rewarded, she would be rewarded with his sweet embrace – the only embrace she would accept, even though she was so very unworthy of it. She backed away, quickly scrambling up and discarding all of her oppressive clothing. Her skin, so flushed that her cream-colored scales contrasted so starkly. Anticipation surged through her – bared completely for her beloved. He would have her, _take her_.

The legatus had risen from his seat, she’d heard his steps wander away and pause. With herself completely bare, she quickly found him standing by his bed. Sumire’s heart, already beating a malm a moment, was smashing against her rib cage. He, too, had discarded his clothes… And to her, what she saw may as well have been the living incarnation of a true god. Eikons wished they could encapsulate the glory she saw before her. His large frame, layered with muscle from constantly honing his craft and wearing the heavy Garlean armor, each contour, each little shadow cast upon him. If she wasn’t so sure that what awaited her after death were the red shores of the River Sanzu and a judgment to the seventh hell from Enma Ou, she might’ve thought she had died and was in the afterlife.

Zenos gestured to the bed, “On your stomach.” The Au Ra shuffled quickly and with no hesitation, lying down upon her front on the mattress, her tail swiftly curling up onto her back. “Very good,” he was pleased, she heard it in his voice, the sound of it making her shudder in delight.

And then she felt it, his iron grip upon the back of her neck, holding her down. A squeal escaped her, partly out of surprise, another out of sheer anticipation. Sumire put up no struggle as he pressed her down, as she felt his other large hand stretch her sopping pussy open, leaving it gaping to the open air. “My most loyal, devoted hound. It is only fitting that you be fucked like the dog you are.”

There was little time to process the feeling of him pressing up against her folds. And there was definitely no time at all to prepare as he swiftly sheathed himself entirely inside of her, tearing a scream from her throat. This was not her first time, no – she had done this before in some vain attempt to find some sort of meaning in her life before her beloved prince. But he had stretched her further than she could have imagined, plunged into her with violent enough force that, despite how wet she was, she still ached at the feel of him. She gripped his sheets frantically, bracing herself for the next painful thrust that tore yet another scream from her. It _hurt_ , far more than her first time… but despite the pain, there was also ecstasy.

Tears began to streak down her face as he continued to slam into her, and she stuttered his name into the air, begging him, imploring him. Harder, _harder_ , to bring her pain and pleasure enough to erase it all from her mind. This was the only pain she desired, the only true pain she would accept – anything at all inflicted by him. “L-lord Zenos – ah, _aaaah_ , yes, _yes_. Use me, abuse me – my lord, I’m yours! _Hnnnnnng, yours. Only yours- AH_!”

The crushing grip on her neck moved, grabbing a handful of her hair and yanking her up. Sumire screamed again, feeling the bruising hold he had upon her waist. The angle he’d forced her at peaked her intermingling pain and pleasure, leaving her a babbling mess as she felt drool dribble from her lips as she peered into those icy blue eyes. “I show you no mercy, in exchange for you showing me none,” there was little strain in his voice, even as his hips continuously rocked into her at a merciless pace. “If you are truly mine, give me something to remember upon the battlefield, Hound. Give me my challenge and I shall continue to sate your lesser desires.”

“Y-yesssss,” she keened, “Y-yes, any-anything.” And she meant it. _Anything_. If it was a glorious battle he sought, she would grant it to him. If he wished to breed bastards with her, she would let him. If he became bored of her, he merely had to say the word.

“Good,” and she felt him twitch inside of her, as if her response had driven him closer to the edge. But just as quickly as she had been hoisted up, she was forced down into the mattress again. This time, however, she felt the full weight of Garlemald’s prince upon her. Elation surged through her already impassioned body, feeling the tightness coil further in her body with his hot breath upon her. And then, then it all unraveled, and she screamed his name again as his cock thrust into her one final time, feeling his seed spread warmth inside of her.

Everything was a haze, clouded by colorful and euphoric. As if every sense of hers had heightened but dulled at the same time. And by the time she had come off of her high, she had realized that she was still upon his bed, wrapped up in his arms, her prince lazily stroking her hair. The warmth of him was so very real, and she could feel the beat of his heart. And she saw it, there as Zenos looked upon her… the barest traces of affection. Sumire’s heart swelled, a feeling so incomprehensible to her sending her into yet another high of positivity she thought had been purged from her long ago.

“Lord Zenos…” she picked herself up with one arm, resting her hand gently upon his face. “Lord Zenos… my love. I am your Hound, you are my prince. Your ever loyal hound that will get stronger, and stronger… So strong that I shall kill you one day. And then kill myself.” A shaking smile formed upon her face, her thumb lovingly grazing his cheek. “Only I shall give you your greatest challenge.”

The lazy smile he wore broadened at her words. He pushed himself up, closing the distance between them and pressing his lips to hers. She reciprocated, eagerly and blissfully. She loved him, loved him, _loved him_. And he, he loved her, against all odds. Yes, she knew it, felt it in her very _soul_.

As they parted, he brought her back down with him again, contentedly holding her again as she heard the pride in his voice, “My loyal Hound, I knew I saw potential in you.”


End file.
